We Looked Like Giants
by TheFalconIsBlue
Summary: Post 4.20. Very Dark, lots of Chuck, Blair and the gang to come later. Rated for M for various reasons. not for the lighthearted.
1. In The Wake Of Our Demise

_Your eyes are broken bottles_

_And I'm afraid to ask_

_And all your wrath and cutting beauty_

_You're poison in the pretty glass_

_You're a wasp nest_

Chuck Bass lay still by the shattered glass. Everything he had come to know had seemingly slipped away from him faster than he ever dreamt possible. A blurred smokescreen of magnified beauty was a lie, a lie he had preserved solely to satisfy his deluded state of mind. It had all crashed in a somewhat tepid spray of dilapidation, there was no one to turn to anymore and he knew he deserved that. He knew it now more than ever.

It had taken four months for him to willingly look himself in the mirror after what had taken place last year but not anymore.

Not after last night.

His head wasn't in any place to even think about what _exactly _had caused him to get so...physical_, _what he did know was that he had never felt such shame in his life, not even his heinous acts with Jenny and Serena all those years ago could even compare.

_Blair._

He could feel his eyes swell with tears again, all night he'd retaliated against them valiantly but he wanted to submit more than anything. It hurt; his heart had never been subject to something as incandescent as this, he was certain he'd never be able to forget the look in her eye as she scurried away from him, back to her prince, forever.

His hand pressed over a few shards as he attempted to regain his footing but it was futile, utterly so, it only illustrated just how desperate he had been all night and that in itself compounded his already overwhelming misery. He couldn't even wince as the glass cut into his unwounded palm, it didn't matter anymore.

Nothing did.

The blame rested solely upon his shoulders, it was difficult to stomach but he'd been aware of it all along, it was just fear, he didn't want to accept the fact he'd crushed the one person who had shown him _real _unconditional love. He wasn't worthy of that title anymore, the cold hard truth was that he hadn't been for quite some time now. It was stupid to keep running away from it, not when it eventually swallowed him whole and lead to moments like _this_.

_Blair._

His daze was so raw that he hadn't even noticed Nate step out. He was usually too busy dribbling nonsense on the phone to Raina these days, Chuck simply learned to not take too much notice of him, especially since he seemed to have gained Raina's menstrual cycle. It all just cemented the undertones raging in his head.

Nobody wanted to be near him anymore.

It wasn't what he wanted to think about, his mind was fixated on accentuating all the pain he had been supressing for so long. The last person he ever wanted to see him in that way was Blair Waldorf. He was terrified that she'd be intimidated by him forever now, or worse, legitimately_ frightened_. His hold on her was evaporating and in truth, with the way things had been going, he'd always known it was a matter of time; he just didn't want to accept it.

_Blair._

He didn't give her the respect she deserved; the past year and a half had been a disservice to what he had spent the previous two years obsessing over. He threw away everything he had wanted for so long and that was just so painful to verbalize because he could barely admit it to himself, he'd exhausted blaming all the external factors, it was fruitless.

Those words Blair uttered through her tears to him in the oak room two years were resonating more than ever.

Chuck Bass, the coward.

The cold echo of his internalized father was ringing loud and clear, he couldn't escape, no matter what he did. Even now, he felt as though he was being watched by him, he could picture him standing there with a shit-eating smirk, it almost petrified him as much as he hid himself.

What was left to feel?

Haphazardly, his hand shuffled around on the floor until he retrieved a suitable piece of glass. As he picked it up, he caught his distorted reflection, it was a trigger. He pressed the glass down against his uninjured hand and let his teeth sink deeply in to his bottom lip.

He needed to feel.

Blair needed to know he could still feel, for her.


	2. Transatlantacism

_I can hear my train comin'_

_It's a lonesome and distant cry_

_I can hear my train comin'_

_Now I'm runnin' for my life_

_What makes a man walk away from his mind?_

_I think I know_

_I think I might know_

"Mr. Bass?"

Andrew Tyler's voice sounded more annoying than it ever had done before, Chuck had always considered him to a little bit of a mercenary but lately, he just couldn't stand the sight of him, especially not when he seemed to take some glee from all of this shit surrounding Bart. It was like he took a sick satisfaction from telling Chuck his father was a no-good murderer, it angered him, it was almost frightening how much he wanted to physically maim Andrew Tyler in his current state, the man was no better than he was so why should he have the opportunity to be so happy when Chuck was borderline suicidal.

Worryingly, he could already picture his hands wrapped around Tyler's neck.

Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his navy blue trench coat, Andrew Tyler cautiously made his way through the mess that was Chuck's suite, the fact not a single light had been turned on unnerved him somewhat which was bizarre as he had never been intimidated by Chuck, he was just aware that he'd not been in what you would call a "good frame of mind" lately.

It wasn't like he cared though; Chuck paid more than Bart ever did for his services. Andrew didn't give a shit about Chuck Bass, just his chequebook.

Tyler ran his hand over the wall closest until he found the light switch he had known was there. Once the lights had flickered on, he was almost startled by Chuck's weary appearance on his plush leather couch. His usually dishevelled hair was a mess; his hand looked as though it had a bloody fungal infection and it looked as though he had been in that suit for _far_ too long.

It was worse than the night Chuck paid him for the information of Lily two years ago. He always thought Chuck would be a failure; it seemed to be ringing true.

Chuck downed the rest of the scotch in the glass within his bloody hand and loosely placed it down on the table before haphazardly getting himself up off of the couch. What more could this monkey possibly have to tell him? At this point, he wouldn't have been surprised if Tyler revealed his family tree was rooted to Adolf Hitler.

"Rough night?" Tyler asked sheepishly, he was smart enough to recognize an unbalanced individual when he saw one.

"More like three. What do you want? I told you before, I was done and you convinced me to follow through. As far as I'm concerned, our business is over." Chuck was drunk but it didn't deter from just how stern his bullish tone was, he was in no mood to discuss anything involving his father of Bass Industries.

He lost everything for a fantasy. How much more pain could he take?

"I have more information that might be of use to you." He responded coolly and reached down in to the inside pocket of his coat, retrieving a wad of documents.

Chuck closed his eyes and bit his lip in a weak bid to pour some cold water over his constant boiling frustration. "I don't care, now if you'd see yourself out, I'd _greatly_ appreciate it. I have more important matters to tend to; I don't need a voyeur like my father did." Chuck's eyes were cold and fixated on Tyler's face.

His hands involuntarily dropped by his sides and balled in to fists. Despite his tender years, Chuck was a veteran drinker, he knew he was merely projecting all his anger and sadness on Tyler but quite frankly, he didn't give a shit, being selfish was something he'd done pretty well for the past year, another few minutes couldn't hurt.

"Drinking at two PM is an important matter?" Tyler's tone was defiant and that was only consolidated by the patronising smirk that had crept into his face. "Listen, Chuck."

"I told you, I don't care." Chuck cut in hastily before once again retrieving his empty glass. He grabbed one of the nearby scotch bottles and refilled his glass for what probably was the sixth time in the last half hour. He was surprised he hadn't completely thrown etiquette out of the window yet and actually drank from the bottle.

It was probably only a matter of time, really.

"Believe me; you'll _really_ want to know this." Tyler persisted, somehow more confident than he was before.

Chuck took a long sip from his beverage but he almost choked on the liquid once he heard Tyler continue. Slamming down his glass on the table top, he aggressively approached Tyler and knocked the documents out of his hand before grabbing the lapels of Tyler's coat.

"When are you going to get it?" Chuck spat the words at him with uncontrollable anger and gave Tyler a violent shake. "I DON'T care!" Pushing Tyler back, he glared at him with unstinting hate, he'd never felt like this before, he feared what he could actually do. Both men seemed to be glued to their respective spots, Chuck out of rage, Tyler out of fear and shock.

"Good luck, kid." Tyler straightened out his clothing and shook his head for the second time. "You'll need it." With that, he turned from Chuck and quickly exited the penthouse. The spring in his step suggested he was just as frightened and shocked as Blair had been on that night.

Chuck glanced around at the strewn papers Tyler had wanted to show him, there was a lingering curiosity to see what the information was, but he was already too much of a masochist and in his current state, he knew better to go looking for anything that would exacerbate it.

Instead, he casually swept them up all in to one nice pile and placed them down on the coffee table top.

He knew there would come a time when he would read them.

It could wait.

AN: Thank you so much to those who reviewed, favorited and subscribed, it really means a lot! Reviews keep me motivated to do this, so please don't be shy!

Also, these first two chapters are very much an introduction. I've already started on Chapter Three and I'm excited about it (:


	3. The Clean Bright Light Surrounding You

_And Konstantine is walking down the stairs_

_Doesn't she look good?_

_Standing in her underwear_

_And I was thinking_

_What I was thinking_

_We've been drinking and it doesn't get me anywhere_

A week had come and gone frighteningly fast. Chuck still hadn't mustered the courage to see Blair face to face or even read the documents Andrew Tyler had left him. He probably spent seventy hours of the week thinking of ways how to approach Blair but he honestly had no idea how to execute it elegantly, it was all so new for him. He was ashamed to even look her in the eye, the possibility of dealing with her being too afraid to actually talk to him was one that hurt more than anything he had ever experienced before, despite everything, he was still so scared to face up to that.

This was Blair Waldorf; the love of his life.

It felt like he had to deal with this realization every single day, he was probably owed it considering the fact he'd neglected all these thoughts and feelings for so long but that didn't mean it hurt any less, it was an obese plethora of pain, it tore away at his heart _all_ the time. All this time he had truly believed her feelings for the Prince were counterfeit, created by her own need to fulfil the fantasy she'd always craved but the fact they were engaged, it changed everything.

Forever.

He wanted to fight for her more than anything but he didn't have that right anymore, especially after what happened last week, she wouldn't come back to him this time, he should have known it sooner, but he knew it now, that was all that mattered.

That and letting Blair know just how upset he was. He hadn't been able to sleep since it happened, she needed to know he cared; he needed her to know, for his own peace of mind at the very least.

That was why he was taking the elevator up towards the Waldorf suite. His hand was wrapped up in bandage but he kept it safely hidden beneath his serial killer-esque leather gloves, this was going to be hard enough as it was. If she was cut, the last thing he wanted was to bring along any visual reminders for her.

He'd made sure he looked extra dapper in the mirror that morning, a custom fit Paul Smith hanging off him superbly. She probably wouldn't even care now but he knew this was one of her favourites, as were the pink peonies in his hand but he was more concerned that she'd be offended by them.

It was such a hurtful thought; he immediately wanted to box it away and leave it never to be opened again.

The elevator doors opened and he cautiously stepped in to the foyer. It was a strange feeling, he'd been here time after time in recent years all because of Blair but this was the first time he legitimately felt nervous, a part of him wanted to turn back and bolt but he'd been a coward for long enough. He needed to face up to reality, he wasn't a kid anymore, and all of his deflection techniques had become redundant.

Chuck took another few steps forward where he was met by Dorota. The look in her eye told him she probably knew what had happened and he once again felt overcome with shame.

"Is Blair here?" He asked, his caution to the wind attitude lay whimpering in the dust.

"She no want to see you, Mr. Chuck." Dorota's response was fierce in tone; Chuck knew it wasn't going to be easy getting past her.

"I just need to tell her something …" He began, his foot involuntarily taking a step forward.

"She busy with Prince, she said no visitors. Especially you!" Dorota's posture somehow turned defiant and a month ago, he probably would have smirked, all he could do now was bite his lip and glance to the floor.

"Dorota, please." It was probably the first time she'd ever heard an ounce of pleading in Chuck Bass' voice but it was there for all to see. He was desperate, she knew it and all of a sudden, Dorota felt as though she had been pulled in to an uncomfortable position. What was best for Blair? Or what Blair really wanted? She pondered for half a second before snapping her eyes back on to Chuck.

"I tell her you here but you must leave if she no comes down, capiche?" She seemed to have simmered down but the attitude was still there, typical Dorota, it almost made him smile, almost.

All Chuck could do was nod politely and simply hope that Blair would give him the light of the day.

Dorota made haste and quickly stampeded her way up the stairs before gently knocking on Blair's door twice. She knew better than to walk in, she remembered one unfortunate incident regarding Chuck, it would have been twice as worse with Louis.

After a brief moment of scuffling, Blair finally opened the door, clad in her silk pyjamas. She eyed Dorota suspiciously and took a step forward, closing the door gently behind her. "Dorota, you know better than to disturb me during my morning hours with Louis!" She hissed furiously, what on earth was so important? The fact Dorota knew everything she had been through only magnified her annoyance at being disturbed.

Dorota swallowed nervously, she was already regretting her decision to tell Blair Chuck was downstairs; this wasn't going to end well.

"Miss Blair, I…" She stumbled over her words and patted down the apron on her stomach before glancing down to the floor.

"Yes?" Blair snapped back with authority, she was in no mood to waste time discussing nothing with Dorota when Louis was discussing plans for the summer. She'd already picked seven countries in Europe that she "most certainly" wanted to see (though she had seen quite a few of them already, it was just better if Louis didn't know that), her mouth almost watered at thought of vineyard picking with Louis in the South of France.

"Mr. Chuck is downstairs. He want to see you." Dorota wearily took a step back, Blair seemed to be frozen still, and her eyes were worryingly vacant for a brief second. "He says it's important." With that Dorota turned from Blair and headed back down the stairs. She shot Chuck a glance as she exited the foyer in to the kitchen.

Blair's head was already in a daze, she didn't know what to do. He had no right to be here after what happened but something inside was urging her to walk down those stairs. It was just like him to show up when she was actually _happy_ again, sometimes she did wonder if she was a masochist for continuously buying in to it all.

She couldn't seem to help herself when it came to him.

Gently turning the door knob, she poked her head inside her bedroom and flashed Louis a bright smile. He returned it with vigour and blew her a small kiss. "When are you coming back to bed, Blair?" He queried curiously, his French tang as tangible as ever.

"Just a moment, darling." She knew he'd buy it, her faux pas expressions were second to none, she didn't like to admit it but she had a repertoire of facial expressions she liked to use when the time was right. They were all pretty much effective, with everyone except for Chuck anyway.

She blew him a kiss back and closed the door softly. Inhaling a deep breath, she straightened herself out and brushed a few strands of hair from her face. This was going to be difficult, what had happened had been one of the hardest things she had ever had to go through. The cut on her cheek hadn't healed and she was sure the emotional ones wouldn't for a good while either.

It was scary and almost impossible for her to understand what Chuck was thinking anymore which was really saying something because she probably knew him better than anybody else on this earth.

Turning the staircase, she hastily tip-toed her way down the rest of the stairs and turned to face Chuck. He looked good which was surprising considering the way he had looked the last time she saw him.

And there were the pink peonies again, a part of her wanted to burn them simply because it was neither the time nor the place. However, she couldn't deny that seeing him there with them, looking at her the way he currently was, it was making it difficult for her, she wanted to tell him to leave but the words were caught in her throat and he hadn't even said a single word yet.

Chuck was unable to take his eyes off her, the way her mahogany curls bounced as she came down the stairs, the way those doughy brown orbs of hers met with his own, it made him want to hold her as close as he could, so that she would forget anything from the last year would happen.

"What are you doing here, Chuck?" She instinctively folded her arms as she said it. Nothing was given away in her expression.

Chuck took a few steps towards Blair slowly, just until he was a good couple of feet away from her. "I wanted…I needed to see you." Taking another step forward he attempted to touch her hand. "Listen, Blair, I-" She immediately pulled her hand back and shot him an angry stare.

"Louis is upstairs, keep a two feet distance, Chuck." He immediately followed her orders and took a step back.

"I needed you to know how…upset I am about that night." His usually derisive voice had turned very soft, his eyes so badly wanted to dart around to anywhere that wasn't her because he felt so vulnerable and pathetic. "I haven't been able to sleep…" Again he took another step forward.

"Chuck, please." Blair was almost trembling from trying to hold back the tears; she hadn't been able to look up at him from the moment he took a step towards her. She was sure if she met his gaze, she'd end up crying.

"Blair." He was pleading again, more desperate than ever.

"No, Chuck. I…just can't do this." She wiped away a single tear that managed to escape and roll down her cheek before looking up in to his eyes.

Seeing her like that broke his heart all over again.

Chuck placed the bouquet of peonies down onto the nearby oak table and turned to Blair. Her personal space had officially been invaded, along with the two foot rule she had upheld not ten seconds earlier. "I'm so sorry I hurt you, Blair. " Removing the glove off of his uninjured hand, he gently cupped her face and lightly ran his thumb over the porcelain invading cut. "I know that I don't deserve you anymore…I just needed you to know that you were always worth the fight. I didn't show you that sooner and it kills me." His eyes began to swell with tears but he fought them off bravely, he didn't want to cry, not now.

Blair on the other hand had let that ship sail long ago, the tears were streaming and she couldn't stop herself from letting her right hand crawl over his as he touched her face. For one insane moment she considered the possibility of kissing him but she thankfully pushed it away as fast as she dreamt it up.

"You need to go, Chuck. Please." Her voice was trembling and he knew it was his cue to leave no matter how much he wanted to stay, the last thing he wanted to do was inflict any more pain on to Blair.

Chuck nodded sadly and placed a gentle kiss on the cut, as he pulled back, his eyes connected with hers somewhat intimately despite the situation; there was still something there between them. Chuck had always felt it but lately, he feared it had evaporated. Even with everything, it was a small semblance of comfort to know she still did feel it, her eyes told him that.

He knew he should have left but he found himself glued to the spot and Blair didn't seem to mind, yet. Glancing away at the wall for a moment, he shot her his best attempt at a smile and stuffed both of his hands in to his pockets before taking a step back from the woman he loved.

"I know you won't believe me but I….I really do want you to be happy, Blair." With that, Chuck turned from her and headed towards the elevator door.

"The peonies, Chuck." It almost killed her to say it but she knew it was for the best that they weren't left here.

"Right, yes." He responded as casually as he could, he didn't want her to pity him by seeing him hurt over a stupid bouquet of flowers. Instead, he grabbed the bouquet, shot Blair once last sorrowful glance before turning from her and exiting in to the elevator.

She quickly wiped away another strand tear and inhaled deeply in a big to regain her composure before going back up to Louis. He'd know something was up if she went up in her current state, he may have been foreign but he still wasn't as gullible as Dan Humphrey, thankfully.

A few more moments passed and she felt physically okay, her mind was a haze with memories, all the way from Victrola to The Oak Room, even to kiss at the Saints an Sinners ball. It wasn't helping her try to freshen herself up but it was better she flushed it out now, before it became a problem. Eventually, she made her way back up the curving staircase towards her prince in waiting. Her head was still somewhat spinning at profoundly the worse time and excrutiatingly, it was down to the same person it had been for the past four years.

Chuck Bass.


End file.
